


Garrison Exploration

by RADifer



Series: JuLance 2019 [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Galaxy Garrison, Gay Keith (Voltron), He also thinks Keith might be one, JuLance Challenge 2019, Just after Kerberos, Lance thinks Pidge is a terrorist, M/M, Male Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pre-Canon, Shady Keith, Shady Pidge, rooftop makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 14:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19929718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RADifer/pseuds/RADifer
Summary: Weird things have been happening on the Galaxy Garrison campus since the news of the death of the Kerberos Mission crew. Lance prefers to keep going with his daily life, but that weirdness seems to catch up to him. Professor Wright, Pidge, and the elusive Keith all seem to be in on it, and Lance just wants to have a normal day.Excerpt:Keith seemed content to stare. Lance for the life of him couldn't figure what this guy's deal was, but he let it slide, finding Keith's quick glares to his shoes every time Lance made eye contact somewhat… there was a word he was looking for but he couldn't quite place it. Endearing came to mind but that was too deep and mushy. Lance looked up a final time to see that wobbly frown on Keith's face as his eyes darted to his shoes once again. He was red in the face.Cute.Lance coughed out the thought. "So what's up with this place, mullet? Why do you come out here?"Keith's attention returned to Lance. The confusion in his eyes simmered and that cool look took over his mien once again. He pursed his lips in thought before giving Lance a smirk that rivaled his confidence. Lance's heart stuttered in his chest."How about I show you?"





	Garrison Exploration

**Author's Note:**

> Another JuLance! I'm on a role! I just have.... 25 more to do before his birthday.... great. I may decide to do some cherry-picking this year. I have lots of other things planned, and I just take too long xD
> 
> Fun fact: I chose to name this "Garrison Exploration" instead of something clever because the whole thing kinda reminded me of a really gay Dora the Explorer. Lance has a backpack, a map, and has to go through like 3 different locations to get to the big one. I dunno. I'm tired...

“-And this one is a moisturizer. It keeps the skin soft and shiny. I recommend this one just before bed.” 

Lance nodded along, placing each product in his bag after Professor Wright explained it. The two were sitting outside on that fine, spring day. It wasn’t too cold or too hot for the climate, and Lance was glad to be out of winter. No matter how many years he had experienced winter at the garrison, he would never be used to the icy wind that avalanched from the mountains. Though Lance still wore his heavy bomber jacket over his uniform, Professor Wright was already wearing his summer uniform. While it did help his impromptu lecture on skincare, showing off his toned yet soft arms, Lance could not for the life of him figure out this man’s adaptability. 

“And are you  _ sure _ this will help me get the ladies?” Lance asked, more than a bit skeptical. 

“It’ll help you get  _ someone _ , Lance. For me, though, it wasn’t a lady.” Professor Wright lowered his glasses and winked. Lance rolled his eyes. 

“We  _ all  _ know about you and Professor Shirogane.” 

“Really? Good. Cause he’s mine and you lot can’t have him.” 

Lance bit his lip, unsure of what to say. The news of Takashi Shirogane's death had been released months prior. No one took it well, especially Professor Wright, who took a whole week off to mourn. He was peppier now but seemed to be in the denial stage of grief. It hurt Lance to watch. 

"We-we know, Professor," Lance said, forcing a smile. 

The air between them tensed. Professor Wright wrung his hands, obviously feeling a pang of anxiety. "I know you think I'm delusional, but I trust you, Lance. I always have. You're one of my best students. One of my favorites. Just trust  _ me _ on this, okay?" 

"Trust you on what?" Lance couldn't help but ask. His worry meter jumped a few notches. 

"I don't think Takashi is dead, Lance." 

"Professor, the reports said-"

"I know what they said!" Professor Wright snapped. He stopped, removed his glasses, and cleaned them nervously. "But they're lying. We've been suspicious for a while that the Garrison is hiding something." 

"We?" Lance was skeptical. He was sure it bled into his expression. His teacher's reaction only confirmed it. 

"Just… just don't worry about it. Things are weird here. Area 51 isn't too far from here, you know." He put his glasses back on and gave Lance a grin. The tension dissipated and the normal air that usually hung around them returned. 

"Not this again. If this is about aliens-"

The sound of the bell broke their conversation. The two looked up at the clocktower, and then back to each other. Professor Wright was the first to hop off the picnic table, brushing down his uniform. 

“Do you have class?” he asked. 

Lance shook his head. “No, Professor Hedricks called in sick last period. He said it was too late to call a sub, so we have free period. He’s making us take a quiz tomorrow though.” 

“That all? When I had Montgomery for that class, she’d give us a day off and then a test the next day. She got relocated to a different sect of the garrison after I graduated, so lucky you.” 

Lance grimaced, glad he was there when he was. 

“Well, I have a class to teach on the other side of campus,” Professor Wright said, stretching with a backbend, “and if I’m late again the students made me promise to give them a pizza party. Can’t let them have that! Remember what I said about the moisturizer! Too-da-loo!!” 

And then he was off in a sprint. 

Lance laughed. “And Hunk calls me eccentric,” he muttered under his breath. He stepped off the picnic table and shoved his hands in his pockets, looking around for something to do. He magically got off his last class of the day, so he was free until dinner. This gave him too many options. 

Lance wasn’t good with too many options. 

He pulled out his phone and texted Pidge. The gremlin was sure to have an idea of what he could do. He knew more about the campus than Lance did, which was saying something considering he was two years behind him in the program. What he didn’t expect was an answer. 

Lance was not going to argue with that. He hastily sent a message back and waited for Pidge to send him the goods. Once he got them and they were downloaded, he searched the well-drawn out and labeled map for something to do and a place to go. Part of him thought it was weird that Pidge had written out certain details like the night watch’s routes, the usefulness of areas typically off-limits to students, and hangouts for certain students, but the rational part of Lance told him to let it go. Pidge was not the kind of guy you wanted to mess with. He never made threats, only promises.

Perhaps that was a bad sign. 

Lance let himself think about it a second longer before coming to the conclusion that Iverson just had to punt the kid if he was doing something threatening to the student body, and all would be solved. 

He blinked, looking up from the screen and off into the distance. “That was a strange train of thought,” he muttered to no one but himself. 

Anyway, back to marauding.

Lance followed the map to a few of the lesser-known hangouts of the grounds. He found a group of seniors smoking weed behind one of the buildings and considered the risks of killing an hour or two with them. That option was nixed when he heard a loud shout from the other side of the building, which sounded a lot like Iverson, and he noped right out of there. Another spot, which he regretted going to instantly, had condoms strewn about and he swore he heard moaning from the back corner. Yeah, Pidge wasn’t wrong when he labeled this as the sex shed.

Running out of ideas, Lance scrolled through the map for something that wouldn’t get him in trouble or scar him for life. This was hard because, according to the map, most places on campus would. He was just about to give up when he caught a glimpse of something odd. 

Right next to the astronomy building, in a deliberately small scrawl, were the words  _ his place _ . Lance had no idea what that could mean. He briefly considered it to be a personal hangout of Pidge’s, but he wouldn’t write it in third person for his own map, would he? It was a possibility, but Lance shucked it anyway. Nothing about the rest of the map gave clue to who this “his” was or what this “place” was for. The writing of the words themselves was obviously written for people to miss. Pidge was hiding someone. 

Was Pidge helping someone infiltrate the campus? 

Pidge was an international spy. That was the only answer. No wonder he was so smart. He was on a mission to get classified documents to an international terrorist organization and this place was the hiding place of his accomplice. 

This was totally rational and not in any way a product of Lance’s love of James Bond movies and an overactive imagination. 

Lance reckoned he should tell a school official about this possible threat, but then remembered he actually liked his head on his shoulders rather than in a minifridge. He chose to explore “his place” himself. 

After the long walk across campus and traipsing up the back stairwell of the astronomy building, he found the exit to the control room roof. He took a large, deep breath and mentally prepared himself for whatever would be behind that door. Terrorist, ninja assassin, mass murderer, whoever Pidge was working with, Lance told himself he could take them. He shoved his phone in his pocket and burst open the door, not checking to see if it was locked, and fell face-first onto the concrete when it flew open too easily. 

He scrambled to his feet and sniffed, acting as if nothing happened. 

The cool late-afternoon breeze brushed his face. He stepped out of the doorframe, letting his only safe exit close gently behind him, and gave the area a good old once-over. Nothing seemed to be occupying it- it looked like any other empty rooftop- but Lance wasn't entirely convinced. He walked forward, searching as he went for any signs of life, but found none as he stepped up to the roof's ledge. He let the toes of his boots hover over the edge, and he looked down. There was a chance he misinterpreted the map and "his place" was behind the building and not on top. 

"What are you doing here?" 

The gruff voice from behind him startled Lance enough he felt himself tip over the edge. Just as he thought he was falling to his death, two strong arms pulled him back, both of them falling to the ground with Lance on top of the mysterious "His." 

Lance twisted in the stranger's grip. "Okay, wise-guy! Who are you and why are you trying to-" Once Lance had flipped over, he realized he wasn't in the arms of a ninja terrorist assassin, but Keith Kogane. "Oh, it's you." 

"What do you mean by that?" Keith asked, annoyed. 

"I thought "his place" was going to be some sort of hacker dungeon. Not some emo's hangout." Lance lifted himself off of Keith's chest, stopping once he was in a pushup position and could stare down into Keith's angry grey eyes. 

"His- what? Listen you-" 

"You don't even know my name!" 

Keith blinked, obviously miffed about being cut off, but Lance couldn't care less. 

"Okay, one, you thought a hacker dungeon would be on a rooftop?" Keith's voice cracked as he asked the question, his tone saturated with incredulous emotion. Lance blushed at that, full knowing his thoughts sometimes didn't make sense. "And, two, you are not supposed to be up here so why should I know your name?"

Lance thought for a second before leaning over Keith's face with a smirk. He could see Keith's eyes flick over his face as he flushed. "Well, last time I checked," Lance said in a whisper next to Keith's ear, "neither of us are supposed to be on the rooftop of an academic building, so checkmate, Keith." 

When Lance removed himself, he met Keith's eyes again, which were stormed over with a mix of emotions, particularly anger which crept into his furrowed brow, and gave him a wide smile. It quickly morphed into a sassy grimace. 

"Also, I'm in your class! You should know my name by now, Kogane!" 

" _Oh_ _yeah_. I remember you. You're that annoying Taylor kid that keeps shouting about how great he is, despite always being second in the simulator." Keith rolled his eyes so hard his head went with them, lolling to the side and exposing his neck. 

Lance huffed, "Third, actually, but James has no clue what he's doing and just lucks out. He's not a tailor like me who can thread the needle." Lance cockily shimmied his shoulders, looking away with a smirk. 

"Oh yeah," Keith muttered, "forgot he existed."

"By the way, Kogane, unless you plan on sweeping me off my feet, will you get your hands off my waist?" 

Lance watched with a blank stare as Keith flinched, yanking his arms to his sides. He wasn't too fond of being forgotten by the only guy he rivaled with- he liked to pretend James didn't exist as well- but he supposed he could let it slide. The guy was obviously really bad with names. 

He puffed some leftover air out of his lungs, which knocked Keith's bangs about, and attempted to pull himself to his feet without kneeing the boy underneath him in the balls. His backpack slipped off his shoulder and slammed into his and Keith's sides. 

"Ow! What the fuck?!" Keith yelled as the moisturizer bottle fell out of an open pocket and landed on his face. 

"Oops. Guess I never zipped it back up," Lance said, now on his knees in front of Keith. 

Keith sat up, holding the bottle in one hand and rubbing his bruised nose with the other. Keith did a double-take, glaring at the bottle in surprise. 

"Is- is this Adam's? Why do you have Adam's lotion?" He asked. 

"I got that from Professor Wright," Lance explained, not knowing who this Adam person was. 

"That's his name dumbass." 

How was Lance supposed to know that? 

More importantly, how did Keith know that? 

"Gimme that!" Lance snatched the bottle out of Keith's hand, hissing as he did so. He dropped the bottle on his lap and checked his hands to see looks bits of gravel concrete embedded in his palms. The fall roughed him up a bit, so no scratches, just pain. He popped open the cap of the lotion and placed a dollop on his palm, hoping to make his smooth his hands once again.

"Smells like cucumber," Keith mused, still sitting in front of him. 

"Are you just going to sit there and smell me or something??" 

It was almost as if Keith visibly backpedaled his thoughts, falling backward and scooting away. Lance would have found it hilarious if it weren't so odd. He finished rubbing the lotion into the skin of his hands and arms, eyeing Keith suspiciously. 

Keith seemed content to stare. Lance for the life of him couldn't figure what this guy's deal was, but he let it slide, finding Keith's quick glares to his shoes every time Lance made eye contact somewhat… there was a word he was looking for but he couldn't quite place it. Endearing came to mind but that was too deep and mushy. Lance looked up a final time to see that wobbly frown on Keith's face as his eyes darted to his shoes once again. He was red in the face. 

Cute. 

Lance coughed out the thought. "So what's up with this place, mullet? Why do you come out here?" 

Keith's attention returned to Lance. The confusion in his eyes simmered and that cool look took over his mien once again. He pursed his lips in thought before giving Lance a smirk that rivaled his confidence. Lance's heart stuttered in his chest. 

"How about I show you?" 

* * *

Keith took him behind the stairwell entrance. Lance was hesitant to follow but figured Keith wouldn't try anything within screaming distance of a classroom, and Lance was confident in his loudness. They were on the small patch of roof between the stairwell block and the large rounded top of the astronomy tower. On the back wall of the block, nailed to the faded brick, was a huge canvas target. 

"It's so discreet, it's indiscreet," Lance said with a healthy amount of sarcasm. 

Keith glared but otherwise ignored his comment. He moved to a black duffle bag by the wall and started rummaging through it. He pulled out a few bronze disks and tossed them to premarked spots on the ground, one of which Lance was standing on, and therefore got hit in the stomach with one. 

"Fuck!" Lance doubled over, holding his abdomen and hoping the disk didn't puncture an organ or something. It clanged to the ground, and Lance picked it up after he caught his breath. "Are these Area Silencers?" 

"Yeah," Keith said while pointing at Lance's foot. He lifted it to see a chalk-drawn 'x' and assumed Keith wanted him to place the death frisbee on it. A turquoise barrier flashed, connecting the four disks to make a box. Lance touched it. It sizzled against his fingertip. Then the barrier was gone, but the disks blinked showing they were active. 

"My toys get pretty loud." Keith had his hands back in the bag. 

Lance blinked. "Toys?" 

"What do you think the target's for?" 

Lance crossed his arms, wincing as he felt a bruise forming just under his ribs. Keith's tone was starting to rub him the wrong way if you asked him. 

"You know," he said, "when I read "his place" on the map so suspiciously, I assumed something more illegal happening here. Not petty target practice." 

Keith finished his work at his portable supply closet and stepped in front of the target, halfway between it and the astronomy dome and halfway between Lance and the other side of the quiet box. Keith donned black gloves and held a gun in his hands. 

"Petty?" Keith gave him an incredulous look. "This is a Sudanese Steam Pistol from World War Four. These were outlawed in five countries and the entirety of Africa." 

Lance's arms dropped to his sides, and his eyes widened. "Does that include the States?" 

"All but the Commonwealths."

"The comma-wha?" Keith raised an eyebrow. Lance added, "I'm from Cuba." 

Keith bobbed his head in understanding and took a stance, lifting the pistol and taking aim. He seemed to want to drop the topic. Lance wasn't finished. 

"Where did you even get that?!" 

Keith responded by turning his head enough to give him a sideways glance and another one of his smirks. "Where did you get that comprehensive campus map?" 

The response gave him pause. Keith chuckled and fixed his stance again, and Lance inched closer to get a better look. The gun had a glass compartment where a liquid, most commonly water, was placed. In Keith's gun, it was prefilled with water, and it boiled as Keith flicked a switch with his thumb. The silver barrel glowed with red heat that Lance felt in his stomach. 

A soft breeze billowed in their hideaway, tussling Keith's hair, bangs drifting over his sharp grey eyes. Lance swore they glinted with a self-assurance that he never saw in the simulator. It was as if the battlefield was where he truly belonged, not in the pilot's seat. Keith wasn't afraid of the fight, he welcomed it. Lance wanted to say something, but the words dried out his mouth. 

Keith pulled the trigger and a bead of pressurized steam shot out of the barrel and into the target. A hole burned into the canvas fabric just above the bullseye and to the left. Lance, hearing a nasally huff, was drawn in by those steely eyes again, but this time caught a glimpse of Keith biting his bottom lip hard in frustration. 

"I can never get that damn bullseye," he said just under his breath. Lance heard him though. 

"That's because your stance is off," Lance said. 

"What?" Keith looked at him in surprise.

Lance's feet moved on their own accord. He sauntered up to Keith, getting behind him and wrapping his arms around his, maneuvering the different parts of his body that needed adjusting. Keith's back was pressed up to Lance's chest, and Lance could feel the tickle of Keith's mullet on his chin. 

Once he righted him, Lance snaked his hands over Keith's position. "And now you can pull the trigger and-" the bead hit the bullseye- "there you go." 

Lance didn't know what he expected. Probably a thank you, a compliment, or appraisal. He didn't know why he wanted any of that from Keith, because, if past experience was anything to go by, Keith would never give him a thank you, compliment, or appraisal. He was more likely to get a fuck you, an insult, and a dismissal. 

Keith gave him some weird conglomeration of the three. 

"Well, anyone could do that. I just prefer hand to hand combat instead. You're just lucky it's target practice day." 

_ Don't let him bait you, Lance.  _

"Are you saying I couldn't take you in a fight?" 

_ And you let him. _

“Maybe.” 

“Wrong answer, Keith.” Lance gripped tight on Keith’s hands, causing him to drop the gun. Lance spun Keith in his arms, kicking both the gun to the edge of the box and Keith off his feet. And that’s what started it. 

Keith launched himself off the ground, lunging at Lance. He grabbed hold of his waist, attempting to bring him to the ground, but Lance swung his fist and connected with Keith’s stomach. It got him off, but the fight didn’t end. They manhandled each other, roughly brawling all over the solicited square they set for themselves. The fight ended quickly, though, with Keith pinning Lance to the wall, pressing a knee tightly between his legs. 

Lance glared down at their position. “Okay, that’s not fair.” 

“I win,” Keith said with that damn smirk again. Lance wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. 

“You play dirty.” Lance’s accusation fell on deaf ears. Keith only chuckled, shaking his bangs out of his face. 

“I still won, doesn’t matter what methods I use.” 

That sparked a thought. A bundle of nerves exploded in his stomach as he considered the options he had. Lance refused to concede, even though he knew Keith didn’t win fairly. His only other option was to play dirty himself, and the idea that mulled around in his hormonal brain set his heart racing. A nervous sweat built upon his scalp. He sure felt dirty. 

He never thought he’d do this in a million years. Yet here he was, doing it, and wondering why he hadn’t tried it sooner. 

Lance leaned in and kissed him. He kissed Keith. After a moment, Lance noticed Keith hadn’t moved from his position, and he pulled back. Keith’s eyes were wide open and his lips parted. Lance bit his and flopped back against the brick wall, effectively smacking his head on it. 

“I thought that- I don’t know what I was thinking.” He darted his gaze away from Keith, instead focusing on his backpack he left next to the wall at the corner of the stairwell block. He felt Keith shift around him and vaguely hoped he was leaving. On one hand, he should consider this a win. He removed Keith’s cocky expression, but at what price? What was he going to do now? Tell the whole Garrison that Lance kissed him? Embarrass him in front of his classmates? Cockblock him when he finally lands a girlfriend?

But Keith wasn’t leaving. Lance felt him lean forward, felt the heat radiate off his skin and wash over him. Lance’s eyes met Keith’s. He couldn’t tell whether it was the flush of his skin, the red of the brick, or the falling sun, but Keith’s hooded eyes almost looked violet. His breath quickened as the space between them disappeared. Keith paused, switching his gaze between his eyes and lips, asking for final consent. 

He gave it to him. 

He expected a crash of lips and teeth. Something aggressive, like how Keith handled the simulations and everything in his academic career. He attacked his obstacles and goals with a fervor Lance had to admit he was jealous of. Keith took no prisoners in anything he did. But with Lance, he locked him up with his warmth and threw the key somewhere his soul couldn’t find it. 

It was a wave of warmth that swallowed Lance as those surprisingly soft lips pressed against his. He felt it surge through his veins, into his fingertips that twitched at his sides and his toes which desperately wanted to push him forward and further into Keith. Speaking of, Keith's hands lifted off the wall and raked up his arms. His fingers danced over Lance's neck and buried themselves in his hair, pushing his head forward and down. The kiss deepened as Lance let himself fall. 

Before he knew it, his arms were snaking around Keith's waist and pulling him closer. Their lips danced with each other until Keith gave Lance's hair a little tug that made him gasp. Keith took that opportunity to heat things up. Lance was lost in the feeling. He was losing himself in Keith, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to stop. His hands may have drifted lower, but Keith didn't protest, content on grazing his lips over the corner of his, moving across and down to his neck. 

Lance let out a low moan as Keith nipped and sucked a hickey in the crook of his neck. Hands drifted over bodies and found their way under clothing, specifically shirts. Lance gripped onto Keith's back as Keith traced his fingers down his chest, pushing his shirt up and up. The cool breeze returned and Lance shivered as goosebumps doused his skin. Keith pressed himself closer as if knowing Lance needed him, needed his warmth. 

They froze at the sound of Lance's phone ringing. And ringing. And ringing. He was getting spammed by a single caller, and the ringtone told him it was Pidge being annoyed he was late for dinner. Lance hadn't realized how long it had been. 

Keith removed himself, and Lance felt an overwhelming loss. He wanted to latch on and not let go, but he didn't. He stood there, watching Keith grab up his things and placing them back in the duffle bag. With the Area Silencers deactivated and stowed away, something in Lance said that it was time to go back to reality. 

"Well, that was fun, Taylor," Keith said, not looking at him. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

Then he left the rooftop. 

Lance gathered his bearings, sliding down the wall and letting his heart rest. This was the last thing he expected when he started this little adventure. He was afraid to admit that he actually hoped it would happen again. 

He left the roof with his bag in his hand later that night, completely missing dinner with Pidge and Hunk. He had this small smile all night that he couldn't get rid of. It was like a switch had been flipped in him, and it was scary, but he kind of liked it. 

A few hours before dawn, he was awoken to the sound of sirens. He assumed it was the adjacent dorm with their faulty fire alarms again and rolled back over to sleep and return to his increasingly exciting dreams. 

Keith didn't show up to class the next day. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, because I really enjoyed this, I plan to create a smut addition!!! It will probably end less abrupt than this one, and have a slightly different ending. That will be posted at a later date, and not for JuLance, as another complete story. I intend it to be the same as this one but with more smut and ending, but I may tweak the first part. So, I will see you then!!


End file.
